“For today, abandon rude or disrespectful unneighborliness, photography without explicit permission, and uninvited groping, all ye who would enter here. Tomorrow, ask yourself if you want them back.”
-Sign above the gate at Potter Farm’s Annual Birthday Suit Bazaar and Celebration of The Skin You’re In.
Robin almost didn’t go that year. Two years in a row she had joined a small group of her sorority sisters at the local Nude Day celebration. Two years in a row she had posed the same riddle, like the Sphinx terrorizing Thebes, with an unspecified reward for the first brave and brainy hero who could solve it. She had nearly lost hope that anyone in this backwards, Miller High Life-drinking corner of Ohio met her idea of a hero.
The three girls at her door seemed genuinely dismayed, though. She rarely joined their ‘fun,’ and her quest for her own unique nude knight had become something of a sorority legend.
“Yay!” The three jumped in a mock-cheer when she acquiesced, not wanting to disappoint her sisters. Even if she knew one of the reasons they most wanted her presence was to attract more men to them with the proven combination of her long red hair, sweet lovely face with that big sincere smile she’d been told melted hearts, and two of the most magnificent, perfect breasts any of them had seen in their young lives. And the riddle, of course.
Usually, pretty young girls did not particularly seek out the company of girls like Robin who would steal the spotlight, but her riddle game guaranteed the boldest of boys and men would approach the group, only to be spurned. And spurned men, in the presence of multiple naked lovelies, tended to refocus their attention elsewhere very quickly. Her sisters shared more attention than they could possibly want.
Robin pulled on jeans, bra and t-shirt for the drive to the Potter farm, just over the county line, where the annual event was held. She heard the sigh when she pulled her shoes from the back of her closet.
“You’re not wearing those hideous shoes again, are you?”
She looked up at the three as she slipped on the worn but still bright blue leather boating shoes. She had spent countless hours in these shoes, sailing the waters of the East Coast on family vacations. “Love me, love my shoes. They remind me of my family.”
“That last thing I want to be reminded of when I’m surrounded by naked men is my family. Yuck.” That was Christine, the willowy blond that got most of the attention once they failed Robin’s test. The other two giggled. Christine was a major flirt, in defiance of her Ohio family which had preachers going back four generations.
Robin grabbed a small bag, made sure she had a couple of generic “Hello I’m” name tags and a marker in it, and they headed toward the beat-up Dodge Dart Swinger that the sorority had invested $200 in for the girls to share. Once inside the car and off campus, arms slipped in through arm holes and the girls did that magical dance that allowed bras to escape without undressing, Christine steering from the passenger seat while the driver made the change. No one wanted any creases or red lines spoiling the view once they disrobed.
After the elderly Dart, nicknamed the “Swingmobile” because of the ludicrous Swinger designation Chrysler had given the boxy model, was parked in the packed dirt parking area of the farm, the girls bailed out, stretching and looking out for any cute guys also arriving. It seemed as though almost no one from their small, conservative college, Mount Unity, either knew about or dared attend the annual event, fortunately. Only local students and those taking summer classes like Robin were still around in July anyhow.
All four girls stripped, each carrying only a small bag for wallet and essentials slung over a shoulder. Momentarily panicked, Robin eyed the overcast sky thankfully: she’d forgotten sunscreen. With her fair skin, a sunny unprotected day could mean a week of pain and peeling. It looked like rain – not at all uncommon during the humid summers here – was more likely than blue skies.
The lovely redhead carefully affixed the two small, self-adhesive name tags, one above each beautiful breast. With the marker, she had carefully crossed out the “I’m” and written in “We’re.” As had become expected, she received the amused shakes of three heads. Like everyone else, her sorority sisters had no idea what Robin was thinking.
Naked except for their small purses and their shoes (two pairs of canvas sneakers, Christine’s wedged heels that stretched her long tanned legs out even more than usual, and the eye roll-worthy blue Topsiders), the girls headed toward the gate, prepaid tickets in hand. No tickets were ever sold at the gate or the day of the event, and no alcohol was allowed inside, to limit unruliness and appease the local authorities.
“Come on, Jaybird. It’ll be fun.”
“There’ll be titties. Lots and lots of titties.”
“Riddle-me Red will be there.”
Jay looked up that last. “How the hell do you know?”
Vern, the big, lumbering former guard on the local high school football team, now a part time janitor at the one of the two rubber band factories in town, shrugged. “She was there the last two years and she’s here at Mount for summer school classes again.”
Jay knew why they wanted him to go: Billy had been called in to work at the family IGA grocery store today and no way was Vern not getting paid for the fourth ticket. In 1983, ten dollars was no chump change. Otherwise, Jay was not usually on the top of their list for “it’ll be fun” weekend company, especially if titties might be involved.
Even though he has gone to elementary and middle school with the rest of them, Jay was considered odd. He’d disappeared to go “back East” somewhere to a special college for the young and gifted. Now 19, he would have a college degree by Christmas. None of the others had any schooling past graduating from the miserable local high school, except Billy with one year worth of marketing and general Ed. classes at “Tri-C,” the local community college. Even Mount Unity, known mainly for its Ag department, seemed an intellectual world apart to them.
Riddle-me Red. Vern had come up with the name when he came back with stories from the Birthday Suit Bazaar two years ago. Held back in second grade, he was a year older than the rest of the boys in his class, so he had met the eighteen year age cut off a summer sooner.
In the small town, Red stood out, and once the guys saw Brainiac Jay (if Vern been had been a little quicker with words and thought, ‘Jayniac’ would have been the kind of teasing label he would have used tirelessly) turn into a clumsy fool at the sight of her, they were merciless.
Other than Brainiac, the best Vern had been able to do in terms of nicknames for him had been Jaybird, after Jay had been spotted bird watching as a twelve year old in an orchard outside town, his dad’s heavy old binoculars around his neck. Bird watching, like being smart and reading anything not specifically required, was just plain odd.
With the limited creativity Vern generally showed, it was no wonder he was so proud of coming up with Riddle-me Red. Taking a line from the Riddler on Batman from TV and combining it with another word that started with the same letter (alliteration was not a word in Vern’s world) was the very peak of his inventive prowess.
Brainiac Jay’s public downfall had been at Fred’s Root Beer drive-in last summer. Riddle-me herself had passed near as Jay was carrying a full tray of root beer in frosty thick glass mugs, burgers, and deep-fried mushrooms. Distracted by the sighting, his foot had caught on the low curb he had stepped over successfully since he’d been a toddler, sending food flying. It has gone downhill from there when she bent over to help him. He caught a glimpse of her cleavage as she leaned down and he turned into a stuttering klutz, failing three times before he got the spilled mugs and now soaked paper-wrapped food back onto the tray.
Vern and Billy had witnessed it from Billy’s old “three on the tree” Ford pickup, howling with laughter. The story had only grown from there with each telling. The worst part of the teasing was the truth behind it: Jay found girls in general rather confounding, especially pretty ones, and the redhead was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
The vision of her blue eyes looking into his, and her sweet smile, without a hint of laughter at his clumsiness, combined with the brief glimpse of her pale full breasts pressed together over the thin line of lace bra haunted his fantasies ever since. He still saw vividly the speckling of faint freckles that has been revealed to him in that soft creamy valley whenever he thought of her. And he thought of her often, especially in bed when the lights were out.
Jay signed. He knew he wouldn’t approach her close enough to see those freckles again, but the chance to see Red naked was too good to miss. “Okay, I’ll go.”
Vern had managed to borrow his parent’s station wagon. Jay was in the back seat with Troy, the quiet slim one who had been Vern’s yes-man and shadow since kindergarten. For once, Troy spoke up, leaning over the back of the vinyl-covered bench front seat. “What’s Red’s riddle again?”
“Man, it’s two words! You’ve gotta mind like…” Vern paused, stumping himself with how to finish what he’d started.
Jay pitched in. “Swiss cheese? A sieve?”
“Shut up, Brainiac!” Troy turned to punch him in the arm, already pissed he was stuck in the back with the nerd.
Chuck, sharing the front seat, answered. “Two name tags, one over each perfect, full, squeezable boob.” His hands gestured as though they lovingly cradled one of the legendary mounds. “Instead of ‘Hello I’m’ she changed it to ‘Hello We’re’, as in ‘We Are’.”
Troy was still trying to get it. “So, we’re supposed to fill in the blank?”
Chuck shrugged without turning around. “I guess. No one knows for sure.”
“Are there ellipses?” Jay asked. He pronounced it ee-lip-seez.
“Jesus, Jay! Lips what?”
Jay explained. “Three dots. Periods. That would make it clear she’s looking for whatever comes next.”
“Periods?” Vern was laughing at his own joke before he got it out. “I hope not. Naked periods walking around would be nasty.”
Chuck chimed in. “And Jaybird will be what comes next. Probably shoot his little load as soon as he sees her.”
Laughter filled the station wagon. Jay even joined in at that one, but still blushed at the insult, wondering if there was some truth to it.
Jay felt better about himself once they’d stripped in the parking lot after sitting in the hot car too long, gathering their courage and watching the couples, singles and small groups filtering in. They didn’t recognize anyone from town. As usual, it seemed most of the attendees had driven down from the bigger cities like Akron and Canton and even as far away as Cleveland. More than a few looked suspiciously like hippies and most were older and wrinklier than a young man’s idea of what he’d hope to see at such an event.
Jay had the advantage of being a swimmer, competing on his school’s team in the winter and an AAU club during the summer. That meant he had a fair amount of lean, toned muscle and a good even tan everywhere a Speedo didn’t cover.
The other three had some version of a “farmer’s tan:” sun-browned arms and a tan ring around the neck, pale everywhere else. Chuck and Troy apparently both wore short sleeves outside: their tan started at the bicep, with Chuck adding the extra triangle of a v-neck. Vern had bordered on fat even when he played football, and the time away from sports hadn’t helped. Combining that with the habit of wearing just a sleeveless undershirt and cut-off jeans whenever outside left him with a flabby two-tone hick look that made the others appear in a far more positive light.
As they headed to the gate, tickets in hand, Jay’s mind went over the riddle again and again. There had to be some trick to it. Something these clods had missed. And every other clod too, since apparently no one had yet solved Red’s mystery.
By noon, the girls had endured a near endless stream of attempted riddlers. Christine was the only one still with Robin. The other two had left a little while earlier with a pair of cute Akron University basketball players who had turned their attention elsewhere after their riddle-solving attempts came up short: “Absolutely perfect” was complimentary and not gross, but woefully unoriginal; “the early birds, looking for their worm,” accompanied by a knowing glance at his own naked worm, had gotten a chuckle from one of the girls and a synchronized eye roll from the others.
Christine’s vote for best answer so far had come from a distinguished looking man showing a little grey around the temples and a fit body with an even head-to-toe tan. He’d tried out “definitely more than a handful, but absolutely nothing wasted.”
Even if he was several inches shorter than she was in her wedges, Christine was disappointed he hadn’t moved on to chat her up. Something about his smooth voice and that full body tan piqued her interest. Plus she liked older men, as two of her Mount Unity professors and a tutor had learned.
But not as old as the little chubby gnome with the denim paper-boy cap covering an obviously bald head. He came up with the attempt, and was slapped hard for violating the don’t-touch rule.
“Hello, we’re…here to scare the bees.” He offered, a small smile curling his lips.
Robin was confused. “Huh? Scare the bees?”
“If you say so.” Alternating, he poked each of her boobs with one extended finger on each hand several times in rapid succession. “Boo bees. Boo bees. Boo bees.”
His delighted cackle was cut short by the sharp crack of Robin’s full swing open palm, thrown like a hard topspin forehand in tennis. He looked like he might have a dislocated jaw the way he probed it gingerly as he scuttled away after he retrieved his hat.
It was amazing and disappointing how many guys tried just to fill in the blank with the simplest, coarsest failing attempts…
And the coarse if not quite as simple…
“Backdoor love handles.”
“Mammalian protuberances.” Points for the Zappa reference, but nothing else.
“My next meal.” Yuck.
“Our baby’s first meal.” Double yuck.
“The world’s finest hot dog bun, ready for my foot-long.” More original, but even yuckier, since the fat slob with the world’s worst redneck tan delivered it like a line he’d been practicing since last year, and his current lack of pants made the foot-long suggestion particularly laughable. Literally laughable, as both girls had looked down in unison, seen a mushroom paler and less appetizing than any cave-grown fungus, and failed to hold back their audible amusement. Robin gave an unconscious shudder as she remembered him from last year, with almost exactly the same line and result.
Vern had stomped off after Troy (next meal) and Chuck (baby meal), his large pinkish (the sun had begun to shine through thinning cloud cover) belly jiggling. That left Jay alone, thoughtful and nearly petrified with fear. At least he tried to remain thoughtful, while alternating images popped in and out of his mind’s eye.
Perfect freckled cleavage framed in lace. Root beer-soaked fried mushrooms. Freckles. Mushrooms. At least the ruined mushrooms he saw weren’t Vern’s.
She was truly gorgeous. Not beauty contest, make-up and hairdo gorgeous. Natural, towel-dry-and-ready-to-go stunning radiance, especially with her hair shining even more resplendently in the recently-appearing sun’s rays. That wonderful smile always near the surface.
And her body! He couldn’t see freckles from here, but he could sure see nipples, pink and protruding but not too much. A belly that swelled that slightest just enough to lead the eye down to a short, shapely triangle of orange-red hair peaking out between her legs. Her legs were decidedly curvier and softer than the tall, slim beauty next to her. Creamy smooth legs that would be heaven wrapped around your hips or sliding softly over cheeks as your nose and mouth nuzzled closer to their moistening zenith.
Jay rarely considered himself a poet, but Red brought out his inner sonneteer. His eyes continued their journey the length of her legs, stopped at her shoes. Boat shoes, kind of preppy, in a bright blue. A blue that went well with her red hair and blue eyes, but an odd choice.
Think, Jaybird, think! You’re different from these clods, these bumpkins that have been universally wrong. You’re brilliant in school, you know calculus and organic chemistry like few your age, you have personally seen and identified over 207 species of birds. Why would you be intimidated by a pair of boobies?
An image came to Jay then of Boobies, the pelagic birds similar to the Albatross, bobbing their heads in their unique, comical mating dance. Nature shows on TV love to score the motion with upbeat Jazz. Red wanted to do her own mating dance, or she wouldn’t be here, naked, having strange men lineup to try and solve her riddle. While wearing those odd blue shoes.
What was her mating dance? Don’t step on my blue boat shoes? The blue-footed shuffle?
Blue-footed! Could it be? Jay’s heart was racing. He waited, took a few deep breaths, like he did before mounting the starting blocks before a race. His heart slowed. Still, he was nervous enough to wonder if he’d be able to articulate words once he was face to face with her.
A muscular, tanned man, at least five years older than Jay, with flowing blond-streaked hair, was approaching Red. The kind of man who made Jay feel completely uninteresting to women. He saw the taller girl eying the man almost hungrily, openly appraising him while his attention was on Red.
Then the man was striding off, muttering and shaking his head. Jay stepped up. Red smiled at him. Instead of being intimidated, her smile calmed him, like a soothing warmth passing through his body. He noticed a slight wondering look to her eyes.
Her smile broadened. “Hi.”
He checked over his shoulder. No one was waiting yet.
“Do you like birds?”
“Huh?” That was tall, tan, and slender, as though he’d just uttered the dumbest pick up line ever. Quite an accomplishment in the current social climate.
But Red’s face lit up in genuine surprise. “I do! I’m named after one.”
It was Jay’s turn to be surprised. “Me too! I’m Jay.”
He held out his hand in greeting.
“Come on, buddy. Take your guess and beat it.” The annoyed voice came from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, two guys had come up close, one tapping his foot, arms crossed over his naked chest.
A soft warm hand took his. “Don’t mind them. I’m Robin. Nice to meet you, Jay.”
Her voice was as soothing as her smile, but he sensed a nervous excitement from her hand in his. An anticipation in her eyes. Could he be right?
“They’re Blue-footed Boobies.” He blurted it out in a rush.
“Oh my god!” She dropped his hand, leaving him momentarily empty inside at the lost contact. Then her arms were tight around him, her soft hair and its unexpected intoxicating scent covering his face, her body pressed close to his as she squealed in delight. “Finally!”
The comforting, calming effect of Red’s – Robin’s – smile and touch was lost on Jay now that the entire, and entirely naked, girl was so close. He could feel her soft but firm breasts as she hopped in celebration against him. He could feel her nipples against his chest. The fear was back: the very likely erection popping up could ruin this moment.
He could push her away, but that would mean putting his hands on his living, jiggling fantasy. He became aware of sharp, uncomfortable irritation on his bare chest. It didn’t actually hurt, but he concentrated on it. He noticed it was actually two spots, one on each side, above each of her nipples.
He tried to concentrate even more intently when Robin shifted to look over his shoulder, pushing herself up and against him as she rose up on her toes. Jay caught another wave of her scent. Flowers, sweet feminine sweat, and ambrosia. He wasn’t sure what ambrosia smelled like, but only the chosen food of the gods could smell this good.
“Sorry, guys. Contest’s over. We have a winner.” Her voice, so near, tickled his neck just below his ear. He almost groaned out loud. Soft, small hands slid down his back, over his white, rounded buttocks, toned from years in the pool with a kick-board. The voice lowered to a whisper as she squeezed. “A definite winner.”
Jay vaguely heard mumbles of disappointment behind him, but his mind and body both were focused on her hands and where they squeezed. Rather than encourage the erection he feared, the surprise of her action seemed to distract his immediate arousal.
Robin pulled back to look him in the eyes. He noticed the same slightly quizzical expression behind her bright smile at the same time he realized what the sharp sensations had been. Now askew, the two paper name tags had folded enough to poke into him with their folded corners.
He found his hands held in hers. “Would you like to walk with me, Jay, solver of riddles?”
“Like Oedipus?” Jay loved mythology almost as much as birds, but realized too late most people associated the Hero of Thebes with something less socially acceptable than solving the riddle of the Sphinx.
“Oh, serious yuck!” Tan and Slim’s job seemed seemed to be to administer the negative, but Robin again responded positively.
“He knows his birds and his Greek literature too. I did find a winner.” She cocked one eye brow up at him with a sudden stern look. “But I ain’t yo mama.”
Jay laughed, feeling the tension and fear leave him. He nodded his head once. “I’d love to walk with you, Robin Riddler.”
She dropped one hand and turned, leading him by the other, her fingers entwining with his. A very small portion of Jay’s mind noticed the miffed, pouty look on the taller girl’s face as she was abandoned. It added to his wide smile. Before he caught up to his spot alongside his prize, he managed to take in the wonderful close up view of Robin’s backside as she walked, pulling him along.
“We don’t need these.” With her free hand she peeled off the two tags, started to toss them in a 55 gallon makeshift trash can they were passing.
She paused her motion mid backswing.
“Can I have them? They’re…like a gold medal in riddling.”
“Ahh. That’s sweet!” Jay would have been content to have her look at him that way forever. She offered the wrinkled tags to him as it dawned on him that he had no pockets or anywhere else to put them. She realized the same thing, taking the time to search up and down his naked body with her eyes to make sure.
“I’ll hold them for you.” She released his hand long enough to tuck them into her small purse, slung diagonally by its slim strap over her shoulder. She found his hand again.
As they walked, neither too sure what to say, but content to people watch and explore a few booths, Jay began to notice more than a few people point the two out. The Riddling Redhead had become locally famous. His chest puffed out and his shoulders squared as his accomplishment sank in.
“Have you gone this way yet?” She asked as they came to a sort of crossroad. Most of the festival was a flattish field of mowed down field grass dotted with temporary stands offering a variety of food, drink, and information on “alternative lifestyles,” but one section extended into a grove of second-growth hardwoods.
“Uh. I haven’t gone very far at all.” That didn’t sound quite right. “I mean, I haven’t explored much. Here.”
Robin was trying if hold back her laugh. Jay took a deep breath.
“No, I haven’t gone this way yet.”
Robin wrapped her arm around his, briefly leaning her head and soft red hair on his shoulder. “I haven’t explored much either, Jay.”
The crowd thinned as soon as they entered the trees. It seemed odd, since the shade and relative quiet felt so comfortable and welcoming. Hay bales with cheap batik tapestries thrown over top were scattered between the trees as makeshift seats. There were a few booths set up in the shade, of a nature more akin to their more peaceful locale.
They passed one where several people were giving or receiving massages, a thin man with a long grey beard playing a soft tune on an odd instrument. A dulcimer? Jay wondered. Another booth held a variety of hammocks and hanging chairs, about half being used by very relaxed-looking patrons.
He became aware of Robin’s soft breast pressing against his arm as she held herself near him. It felt more close, intimate, than overtly sexual. Until now, Jay would have doubted any contact with the object of his fantasies could be anything but sexual.
“Let’s sit.” Jay took her suggestion, since there was a vacant spot nearby. He took one end of the bale, conveniently placed so the leaning trunk of a birch provided a fairly comfortable back rest.
Robin sat close, her thigh against his. “Tell me about yourself, Jay. How did you become an expert on Boobies?”
They both laughed when his eyes dropped to her chest. He shrugged with a grin. He couldn’t remember not being embarrassed any time he’d been caught looking at a girl’s tits before.
“I’ve always liked birdwatching. I spent a couple summers at my Aunt’s place south of Pittsburg. There’s a lake, a creek, and lots of wildlife. She got me hooked. I had my hundredth bird identified by the time I turned eleven.”
“I was ten.” She tried to put on a superior proud look at her one-upmanship, but it only looked cute. “It helped spending summers on a sailboat.”
“Checked off in the back of Peterson’s Field Guide?” He asked.
“Birds of Eastern and Central North America. Of course. How else?”
“Well, Peterson’s the gold standard, but I have a James Bond hardbound my aunt gave me.”
“The ornithologist, not the spy.”
Jay could tell she was lost, and he relished the chance to show off a little. Even if it was a nerdy way to do it.
“Ian Fleming, who wrote the Bond books, was a birder. He named him after a James Bond that published bird books. I have a Field guide to Birds of the West Indies, though it hasn’t helped much locally. Have you read any of the Bond, the spy, books? Ian Fleming would love your Blue-footed pun. Right up his alley.”
She looked impressed, shook her head. “I had no idea. Spy stories are not usually my thing. I just think of ‘Bond, James Bond’ in that sexy Scottish accent and Paul McCartney singing that horrible ‘in this crazy world in which we live in’.”
“My god.” The words just flowed out of him. “You’re beautiful, a bird watcher, and a grammar nazi! You’re perfect.”
Robin kissed him. Not a deep kiss, but more than a peck, and it took his breath away. Soft lips held his for a timeless brief moment, just long enough for him to start to kiss back and catch the slightest taste of spearmint.
Her eyes dropped shyly as she pulled back. Jay saw a bright red flush spread over her cheeks. He looked down and saw why: his forgotten fear had sprung up, hard and straight from between his legs, exposed to anyone who looked their way. Fortunately, their seat was at least partly obscured by a fallen tree and a bend in the path.
Jay felt his face grow hot, looked up to see Robin’s teasing grin, her eyes bright. He wondered whose cheeks were redder, even with the advantage her complexion brought.
“I can help hide it.” It was the whisper of a conspirator. His eyes went wide at an instant thought of ‘hide the salami.’
Robin missed his reaction. She turned away from him on the bale, leaning back against his chest. She adjusted, her smooth bottom catching his erection and directing it upward along her lower back as she wriggled closer. Jay awkwardly rested his hands on her sides above the sweet curve of her hips.
Robin’s hands found his, fingers again knitting with his own before pulling his arms close around her. Once more, the intoxicating scents from her hair filled his nose. This time he inhaled deeply, his face close to her neck.
“Mmmm. I like that, Jay.”
“I like all of this, Robin.”
“I can tell.” One thumb stroked the back of his hand, his palm covering a patch of divinely soft, smooth belly.
At a loss what he should do from here, not wanting to spoil the perfect, magic moment, Jay simply held her, inhaled her scent, and tried to keep his boner from twitching against her. When the silence went on a little too long, his nerd brain again took over.
“Did you know Ian Fleming also wrote Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?”
“Really? I love that movie!” She gave a little shimmy of excitement against him. “With Dick van Dyke and Benny Hill, how could you go wrong?”
Caught up in her excitement, Jay’s hands, pulling her smaller ones along, slid up and over her soft, full, very naked chest. “Benny Hill would like you.”
She froze, her nervous tension transmitted clearly where her back leaned against his chest.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just…” His blathering apology trailed off as her fingers squeezed his.
“Shh. It’s okay.” Her action on his fingers caused his own hands to squeeze the giving yet firm flesh under them “You just surprised me.”
“I surprised me too. I don’t normally…” Now it was his own loss for words that interrupted him.
Robin tilted her head back and kissed his cheek, just over the line of his jaw. The simple touch was electric. “I don’t normally either.”
They stayed that way for a moment, until a couple walked up the trail past the massage booth. Four hands slid down to a more proper place around her waist, but in a tighter embrace than before. The man and woman, perhaps in their mid-30s, both with no sign of tan lines, nodded as they strolled last. As they disappeared around the next bend, Robin giggled.
“That was close.”
Jay gave her a squeeze, nuzzling close to sniff again in her hair, daring to plant a light kiss on her neck, moist with a trace of sweat in the humid Ohio air. “This is close.”
“I know.” She whispered. “This is not like me.”
“I like you. And this.”
She broke the next silence. “Isn’t it weird that we’re both named after birds?”
“Both of us? All four of us if you include the blue-footed twins.”
“Silly boy.” She snuggled back on him. “Hmm. And that feels like a lot more worm that the early bird was looking for.”
Jay snorted in surprise, caught off guard. Encouraged, she continued.
“The poor bird might choke.” He inhaled sharply.
Robin gasped when she realized how that has sounded. “I didn’t mean…I wasn’t…oh god!”
Her hands pulled free of his and covered her face as she started to sit up. His arms held her tight.
“Hey. It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean…that. Really, it’s okay.” He felt her relax, her hands again finding his.
She shook her head, the motion filling his nostrils with ambrosia again. “That was bad.”
“Nah. That was a good one. Like I said, Ian Fleming would like you.”
He changed the subject, away from her embarrassment. “Speaking of people named after birds, do you think anyone else here is?”
“Is that what we were speaking of?” Relaxing, she leaned back into him again. “Like who?”
“Well, see that tall girl, with the Afro?” The woman in question was tall, wearing her hair in a style that had been more popular a decade earlier, her Afro spilling out over a scarf tied as a wide headband. Sizable muscles flexed in her dark, defined arms as she leaned over a massage table, her subject hidden from their view by the fallen tree. “Her name’s Phoebe.”
“You know her? From where?” Robin sounded miffed, almost jealous.
“Never seen her before in my life.”
“Then how do you know…oh. A Black Phoebe. I get it. Clever boy.”
“You catch on quick, O clever girl.”
“You have no idea how clever. My turn.” She paused in thought. Jay took the opportunity to kiss her neck, lingering this time before tasting her salty skin with the lightest flick of his tongue.
“Hey! No fair distracting me.”
He licked her neck again, nibbling under her ear. He whispered. “You find this distracting?”
“Very. Put your leg on the other side of the bale.” She tapped the thigh nearest her. Jay followed her directions, slipped his leg between them so that he was straddling the makeshift bench. Robin slid back, reclining in his arms, his hard-on caught snugly, even more blatantly than before, between them.
The position lowered her head so that he could no longer easily kiss at her neck, but it gave him an unimpeded view of her magnificent chest, the smattering of freckles that has haunted him since last summer, and even a hint of curly red hair below where his arms encircled this gift from the gods.
“Distracted?” She asked in response to the obvious twitch he gave against her back, entirely of his body’s own volition.
“Good. Now, remember the old guy with the long beard, playing the zither?” They couldn’t see him from here, but they could still hear the odd, ethereal music.
“Is that what it is? A zither? I was guessing a dulcimer.”
Robin paused. “Maybe you’re right. It probably is a dulcimer. But quit distracting me.”
Jay again twitched against her, this time on purpose. Her back arched.
“Hey! That is so not fair.”
“Sorry.” He kissed her hair near the top of her head.
“Where was I? Oh yeah. Old man, long beard, bushy white eyebrows, playing a mysterious instrument with obvious magical properties. He’s almost certainly Merlin.”
“Merlin? Oh, like a falcon? A sparrow-hawk. Good one. You are clever.”
“Told you. Your turn.”
“Hmm.” Jay’s gears were turning, coming up empty. Another couple walked by. The tall man had long brown hair, carefully brushed and blown-dried back from his face. The woman was pretty but very slim, almost without curves. Her hair was a flowing mass of thick dreadlocks and a small dark tangle poked out from under her arms.
“The Tufted Tit.” He pronounced it definitely, like the narrator of a zoology film announcing an important development.
“The Tufted Tit? Her tits are the one place I’m not seeing any unusual tufting.”
“Exactly. This one has a backstory.”
“Pray go on, professor.” The laughter behind her words encouraged and delighted him.
“The man with the flowing locks is obviously an expert on hair, perhaps a cosmetologist by training.”
“When the two met, the poor girl was charmed by the man, but horrified to get…intimate with him because of her dark secret.”
“And what, sir, was this dark secret?”
“She was extremely sensitive to the fact that her breasts were not only quite small, but they each spotted several dark hairs growing near the nipple. She had never let anyone see them, and had been sadly misinformed by the old wive’s tale that hair, once removed, grows back thicker and darker.”
“That’s not true?” Robin seemed genuinely surprised.
“Not at all. Now, a shaved hair will have a blunt end that may appear darker and thicker when it grows back, but that affects only the appearance of the end. A hair tweezed out will grow back with a finer end, and generally no darker than the one it replaced. In fact, if enough hairs are pulled from a given follicle, it can lose its ability to produce more, the last few growing increasingly wispy.”
“I had no idea.”
“Neither did she. As the relationship progressed, hair-guy’s frustration increased at his inability to get to second base. Finally she relented and confessed her fears, electing to trust his obviously evolved sensibilities. He calmly observed her minor hirsutism when she finally, shyly slipped her top off after a lovely dinner and a bottle or two of wine.”
“Hirsutism. Nice word.”
“Thank you.” Jay acknowledged the compliment without losing the flow of his story. “After rectifying her opinion of hair removal, hair-guy offered his professional services, free of charge.”
“What a guy. All that hair, and a philanthropist too.”
“Years of pent up tension left her a bundle of nerves as he leaned over her, tweezers at the ready. Her nervousness and imagination magnified the slight pain of the first hair being expertly yanked out, roots and all. Without thought, at her yelp of pain, hair-guy distracted her by locking his lips on her overwhelmed nipple, sucking at the sensitive point while his tongue flicked over it, driving all thought of the transitive pain from her.
“Taken by surprise, the tension released in a way neither could have anticipated. The expectation of pain, the sudden sharp sensation in such a vulnerable area, and his mouth’s intimate distraction combined to set off the most mind-blowing orgasm she had yet experienced.”
Robin’s hands were gripping his own now and Jay could see a noticeable increase in the movement of her chest as her breaths became more rapid.
“They repeated the process with the remaining hairs, with similar ecstatic results. To this day, they allow the hairs to regrow enough to relive the pain/tension/release cycle that has been such a key part of their sex life ever since. Hence, the Tufted Tit.”
“Wow.” Robin’s voice almost husky. “I didn’t expect that.”
She twisted in his arms, his hard-on dragging across her bare lower back to press into her hip. When she kissed him her lips were eager and hungry, her tongue seeking out his. The position brought one of his hands to her round bottom and he heard no complaints as he squeezed her soft flesh. Instead, he felt it move under his grip, pushing toward him a slow repeated rhythm.
“That was really hot.” Her lips brushed against his when they separated enough for speech. She twisted back to face away from him, nestled together as close as they could. Neither commented on the wet trail they both felt the tip of his erection draw from her hip to her spine. “My turn.”
“I can’t wait.” Jay’s heart was pounding in his chest as an almost maniacal grin distorted her face.
“His name isn’t hair-guy, it’s Cliff. And though he hadn’t yet been allowed second base, that didn’t mean they’d stayed near first. Our sweet, misled tufted girl was desperate to keep him out of her shirt and away from the source of her anguish. Their make-out sessions, their passionate kisses, were getting both of them to a highly aroused, near irrational state every time they were together.”
“I can understand how that might happen.” Jay concurred. He let her feel a twitch along her spine.
“Mm. Bad boy. Finally one day when he had come to visit her at the rural communal farm where she’d been raised, she reached a decision. She was pinned to the rough wood siding behind the barn, out of view of any prying eyes. She could feel his hardness pressed full against her, his breath ragged with desire, as their tongues and lips slid against each other, passions bordering on madness.
“When she pushed his eager hands away from her shirt hem a second time, she held them tight in hers, tugging him through the barn door. Moving quickly so she didn’t lose her nerve, she unbuckled his pants, shoving them down over his muscular thighs.”
“I saw his thighs. They weren’t all that muscular.”
“Shush, young man, and listen.”
“I’m all ears.”
Robin wriggled again, rolling his rigid shaft between them. “Not all. Anyhow, his thighs were more muscular back then. As his pants came down, she dropped to her knees, lowering her tufted and hidden titties out of his reach. She had to relieve his passion before he unveiled her shame. Enthusiasm trumped inexperience as she took him in her mouth. His surprised delight combined with the height of their heated arousal, and it was only moments before he exploded, plunging deep past her lips and tongue. Cautious to leave no damning visible evidence on her clothes, she managed to swallow all of his substantial, creamy load.”
Jay’s mind was awhirl. He had trouble getting enough air. Riddle-me Red has just described a blow job in intimate detail as he held her naked body tight to his.
Robin’s hand stroked over his. “You like?”
“Holy cow. Yeah. I like. But how does a bird fit in? You said his name was Cliff.”
“That was her very first Cliff Swallow, silly. And first Barn Swallow. That’s two birds with one moan.” She giggled and Jay groaned at the final bad pun.
“Do you always tell oral sex stories on the first date?”
She shook her head. “Never. And you haven’t even asked me on a date yet.”
Yet? “Does that mean you want me to?”
“If a girl doesn’t get a least one date out of a day like this, she’s doing something very wrong.”
“If a lady wants to hold the door open, a gentleman steps through. Robin, would…”
“Excuse me. I hope I’m not interrupting.” They both jumped, startled, at the unexpected voice. “Ah, I see I was. My apologies.”
Merlin stood facing them. His face showed wrinkles and age, his skin had some definite sag, but he looked fit. His eyes had a youthful twinkle, his teeth were straight and white, and he looked as comfortable in his birthday suit as a judge in his robes.
“You’re the riddle girl, no?”
“Yes.” Robin answered quickly. They had both relaxed as soon as they had seen the speaker. He seemed so comfortable with himself, it put others at ease.
“I’m Tom, Tom Potter. This is my place. I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
“For the free advertisement. At least a third of the calls I got this week were asking if you’d be here. Attendance is up by more than that.”
Jay nodded. “I only came because of the chance you’d be here.”
Robin twisted to look him. “Seriously? We’ve never met.” Her face took on that puzzled look he’d seen twice before. “Have we?”
He blushed. “Kind of. At Fred’s Root Beer. I didn’t make a very good impression.”
“You. You were the one with the tray? I wondered where I’d seen you before.” She was smiling at him. “You made a better impression today.”
“You must be the solver of the Red Sphinx’s riddle, then.” Tom spoke up again.
“I am. I’m Jay, Tom. And this is Robin. And thanks for not coming out and calling me Oedipus. It makes the girls nervous.” Robin slapped his thigh.
Tom’s laugh was surprisingly hearty. “Pleased to meet you both. If you don’t mind my asking, what was the winning answer?”
“Blue-footed Boobies.” They both answered together. He looked at her chest, at her shoes, then it was Tom’s thigh’s turn to get slapped, by his own open palm.
“Boobies. Of course. The ones that dance like this.” This skinny old fellow did a remarkably solid imitation of the mating dance, long beard waving. “Good riddle, young Robin. Good thinking, young Jay. I’m glad at least some youngsters have a head on their shoulders worth keeping. Not like those three idiots we had to call the constabulary on today.”
“Three?” Jay was worried. “Was one a big porker with a farmer’s, ah, undershirt and shorts tan?
Tom shook his head “Unfortunately, Jay, that describes too many of our attendees.”
“And they all wanted to guess my riddle.”
Tom eyed Robin again. “I have no doubt of that. Do you know Porky’s name, Jay?”
“Vern. Vern Sykes.”
“Yep. That’s the big fellow.”
“Damn. That was my ride.” Jay felt Robin tense at the mention of a ride.
Tom looked surprised. “I wouldn’t have put a bright young riddle solver in a truck with that piece of work.”
“Well, they’re not my every day compadres, but they were too cheap to let an extra ticket go to waste and they dangled the likelihood of a certain intellectually-challenging redhead being here.”
“A challenge you were apparently up to.”
“I’ll say.” Robin added, wiggling back on him emphatically, though he was a little less up since Tom had shown up.
“Tom, you said your name’s Potter.” Something had clicked in Jay’s mind.
“So I did.”
“Tom the Potter?”
The old timer looked at him closely, suddenly appearing more Merlin-like. Like a wizard and a bird of prey. Jay’s dad used to mention a Tom the Potter, an art teacher who’d made a lasting impression. Once or twice he’d gone off to spend a Saturday visiting the man. When he was kid, Jay had spent hours with his dad learning to both hand-mold clay and throw it on the wheel with the heavy kick stone, using techniques passed down from Tom.
“I get called an old coot these days, occasionally sculptor, artist or visionary, Tom the royal pain in the rear, but almost no one still calls me Tom the Potter. You said your name’s Jay? Jay Markham, Junior, if I’m not mistaken. That solves a small dilemma.”
“I’m Jay Markham, but not a Junior. Dad’s middle initial is D. Mine’s T. Tom here was my dad’s art teacher, back before they’d invented paint.” The last part was to Robin, but was rewarded by a scowl from the potter.
Robin piped up. “What dilemma?”
“Well, I was wanting to invite a certain pulchritudinous and famous riddler to enjoy some of the more exclusive attractions here, but I was reluctant to trust her taste in men. Being as he solved your riddle, I was tempted to include him, but now that I know his misbegotten origins…”
“…I think you’ll both fit in fine. And neither of you need to worry about your rides, or the clothes you no doubt left in them.”
“What kind of attractions?”
“Nothing too extravagant, but there is a small section of the festival that is invite-only. No hurry, but when you feel like it, follow this path to the gate that says ‘I’ll forgive your trespasses when you get the hell off my land’. It’s a Hastings lock, Junior.”
“What’s a Hastings lock?” Robin asked.
“I’ll show you.” Jay gave her a squeeze. “It’s kind of a riddle. And thank you, Tom.”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Potter.”
“Young lady, it’s Tom, and the least I could do for you. Jay T, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ll see you both later.” The old man spun and headed back toward the booths they had passed earlier, with arms swinging and a spry bounce to his step.
Jay felt Robin stroking his forearm with her fingers before she twisted in his embrace. His hard-on, finally deflating during their encounter with Merlin, had left a wet spot of shiny clear fluid on her back. Her motion spread part of it sideways, following her waist. She reached a hand back, examined one wet finger before wiping it on her leg. Jay was entranced by the sight of his own pre-cum, shining on this angel’s thigh.
“You really do mark ’em, don’t you Mr. Markham?”
“You bring out the best in me.”
“Is that really the best? I’m a little disappointed.”
“Just an expression, fair lady. The best is yet to come.”
“Yes I do. That’s just a taste.”
“A taste? Naughty boy, thinking of third base already. We just met.”
“After your tale of the Barn Swallow, can you blame me?”
“I guess not, but you started it with the morality tale of the Tufted Tit.”
“Morality tale? What was the moral?”
“A little pain, a lot of gain.”
“I could never hurt you.”
She pouted, eyes shining. “Not even a little?”
Jay’s boner had risen again, and now lurched against her hip. “Maybe if you asked real nice.”
“My noble knight.” She kissed him, soft, warm, and comfortable. Only as they parted did he feel a light touch of her tongue across his lips. Jay was very aware of her breasts, punctuated by the hard knots of her nipples, against him.
Robin looked down. “A knight with a very formidable lance.”
She surprised them both by reaching down and gingerly wrapping her hand around his shaft. Jay’s jaw dropped open before he groaned.
A thick stream of fluid, part clear, part cloudy, flowed out of his tip and over her fingers.
Robin stared unmoving before her eyes flicked up to his. “Did you..?”
“Not quite, but almost.”
“So that’s still not the best?” Her hand was making small motions on his still rigid shaft, smoothing the slippery mess over him.
He shook his head. “Not by a long shot. You, fair maiden, are the best.”
“A long shot, huh? This one was rather short. The shot I mean, certainly not your lance.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing and the next shot will be quite a bit longer, I promise.”
Her hand stopped, but her grin was mischievous. “You want to hit me with your best shot?”
He finished the lyric. “Fire away.”
They both laughed.
Jay continued. “But I meant it when I said you were the best. This is like the best dream ever.”
For a moment she looked ready to cry, even as she smiled. His heart leapt. “And you did say the best was yet to come.”
“I’d love a chance to help remedy that misfortune.”
She shook her head. “You men. When the conversation changes to sex, you’re so quick with the L-word, even before the first date.”
“About that, Robin. Would you consent to going on a date with me?”
“When were you thinking, sir knight?”
“The sooner the better. Would you be my date to adventure into the unknown lands beyond the mysterious Lock of Hastings?”
“That is soon.” She looked thoughtful, pausing long enough that old fears whispered their baseless doubts to Jay. Robin banished them with three words. “I’d love to.”
She saw his gaze dart over her shoulder and turned to look, suddenly embarrassed that she’d been caught red – more accurately, wet – handed. It was Black Phoebe, heading in the direction Tom had indicated.
She smiled at the two, a broad warm toothy smile, then waved. Up close, she was striking. Toned, long muscles showed clearly, accented by a light sheen of sweat. Besides the floral scarf headband she wore nothing, not even shoes, except for an ornate necklace of dark metal accented with deep red stones. It formed a broad triangle from the base of her long neck to a point between her small, firm breasts. Breasts capped by rather large, very dark nipples.
“I heard you two accepted Tom’s invitation. I’m heading that way now. Care to join me?”
Robin spoke up. “Thanks. We’re just wrapping up our conversation. We’ll follow along in a minute.”
Phoebe nodded with another warm smile. “Great. See you soon.” She was soon out of their sight, around the corner Cliff and Tufted had disappeared.
“Help me up.” Robin requested.
Jay grabbed her hips, enjoying the sight and feel of his hands on either side of her shapely waist, just as it narrowed above her bottom. He lifted as she stood, then pushed himself up to join her. Again, the interruption and conversation had deflated his visible arousal.
He sucked in a sudden sharp breath when Robin brought her still wet hand up and wrapped her lips over the web between thumb and forefinger, right where his leak had spilled.
“What?” She looked coyly. “Didn’t you say it was only a taste?”
She smacked her lips. “Hmm. Kind of salty, but not much flavor.”
Robin fixed her eyes on his. “Seriously, Jay. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“I don’t mean telling bird jokes and solving riddles with naked strangers.”
The rest came out in a rush of words. “That’s the first time I’ve ever touched a boy’s…boner. Or tasted his stuff. Jay, I’ve never been with, I’m still a, I’ve never had sex.” Her eyes dropped and her shoulders drooped.
“Me either.” He said it more deliberately this time, making sure she understood what he was telling her. Her eyes came back up to his.
Oh, Jay, my knight.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against his neck.
“Robin, my day.” Nothing like another pun to break the tension. “But there is one thing you should know. I wasn’t telling the whole truth.”
She pulled back, her face showing just how vulnerable her confession had made her.
“I have actually touched a boy’s…boner before.” He paused just an instant. “But only when I was alone.”
She pushed him away, that heart-melting smile back. “You brat!”
“Guilty as charged.”
He took her hand, gestured toward the path with a sweep of his free arm. “By the way, did you notice Phoebe’s necklace?”
Robin nodded. “Beautiful.”
“Yes, you are. But off topic. Do you think if it had been her with Cliff in the barn, she might have made a sensual vibration deep in her throat as she swallowed him?”
“What? Odd question. But sexy. Why?”
Jay wiggled his eyebrows in as much of a Groucho Marx imitation as he could muster. “I might have misidentified her earlier. She could be a Ruby-throated Hummingbird.”
Robin groaned, pulled him close to her hip and leaned her head against his shoulder. He caught a whiff of her hair and scent as she a muttered in mock disgust. “Bird-brain.”
The two followed the path until it looped back toward the main, open part of the festival. Puzzled, they retraced their steps, finding a small gate to one side that neither had noticed. Ivy half-covered a small hand-painted sign with Tom’s unusual warning to trespassers.
Jay found the combination lock with four numbered wheels on the bottom.
“But he didn’t tell us the combo.” Robin sounded disappointed.
“Yes he did.” Jay quickly dialed in 1-0-6-6.
“A Hastings Lock.” Robin shook her head. “Silly me.”
“Dad uses the same combination on our side gate at home. Must have learned it from Tom.”
The path on the other side was narrow and invisible until the gate swung open. It headed into thicker woods, winding up a low hill. They made sure the gate was re-locked before continuing.
Once the two had crested the hill, sounds of activity reached them. Voices and laughter followed by a splash. Soon a roof showed through the branches.
At least a dozen people sat or stood in a small clearing, where a half-dammed creek continually filled and flushed water through a deep swimming hole. Phoebe held a pitcher of what looked like iced tea, filling glasses at a round metal table with a colorful mosaic top.
With a yell, slim Tufted Tit swung gracefully on a rope, well-tufted armpits on clear display, before she executed a neat back flip to land with a splash near the center of the calmer, deeper water.
The roof belonged to a sprawling, single story building, part walled in, part covering an open concrete pad dotted with a variety of well-used looking equipment. Jay identified a potter’s wheel and kiln.
Metal, glass and stone sculptures, a couple of them moving with the light breeze, dotted the area. A mural of silhouetted dancers on a field of green backed by an orange and red sunset covered one wall. Beyond the covered patio, two vans – one older VW and a newer cargo – and a few cars could be seen. Their path was not the only way in to the hidden spot.
“Come on, join the fun.” Robin gave a shrill shriek at the voice behind them. Tom strode down the hill, ushered them into the clearing. He had a cloth bag slung over his shoulder.
“Everyone.” The old man’s voice carried and drew attention when he projected. A good talent for teacher, Jay thought. “This is Robin, our renowned riddler, and Jay T, the answer she craved.”
Robin blushed deeply at that last part. There was polite applause and a couple whoops of appreciation. Someone called out, “What was the answer?”
“Tell them, Jay.” Tom nudged him with an elbow.
“Blue-footed Boobies.” By the reactions, only two in the group got the joke.
Jay explained, first pointing to Robin’s feet. “Blue shoes.”
She raised one, displaying it so they could see. He pointed again, to near where the twin name tags had been asking their riddle. “Boobies. They’re a kind of seabird.”
“Never would have got that one.”
“And boobies are my specialty!”
“Ronnie! You be good.”
They all laughed as Tom directed the two to a narrow wooden bridge above the dam. Phoebe approached with a smile and two glasses. “Welcome. I’m Ruby. Would you like a drink.”
Jay choked. Robin covered for him. “Not yet, thank you. I need a dip.”
She kicked off the boat shoes, dropped her purse and ran, leaping out over the water, boobies bouncing high before she dropped in over her head. Jay followed, leaving his worn canvas All-Stars on. When he came up, shaking water from his eyes, Robin was treading water nearby, wet hair now a deeper red as it clung close to her face, making her skin ever fairer.
He paddled backward as she swam toward him until he felt his shoes hit the bottom. She continued closer until she could wrap her arms and legs around him, pulling their naked bodies together, and kissed him hard.
“Quick, somebody ask me a riddle!”
Refreshed by the swim, with glasses of iced tea before them, Tom pulled two bundles of clothes from his bag. He’d found Christine easily enough since what passed for his security crew had kept a close watch on the red riddler, her friends, and the swirl of attention she had attracted.
“I let her know you were safe and had a ride back to school whenever you were ready to go. Jay, I’ll call your father and let him know much the same. Vern’s truck wasn’t locked, and it’ll probably be towed. I doubt if he’ll be out to get it himself any time soon: you don’t punch a deputy sheriff, even if he isn’t wearing his badge.”
“Or anything else.” Ruby added. She slipped an arm around the waist of the much shorter, older Tom. Jay was still getting used to the idea that the two were married. He’d never met an inter-racial couple in his young life, or one with such an apparent age difference. Though the closer he looked at Ruby, the less certain he was of her age. She looked back at him. “You look like your father, Jay. Though I didn’t know him at your age.”
A pretty girl with jet black hair came around the corner, calling, “The paint booth is ready, folks. Sorry I’m late.”
Jay and Robin stared. Even on this unusual day, the girl was a unique sight. Below her chin, her body was a chaotic swirl of colors, more like an abstract version of Van Gogh’s Starry Night than anything else Jay could come up with. Blues, black, white, and lots of spiraling bright yellow covered every inch of her body. It was obvious through the thickly applied paint that she had shaved off all her pubic hair. A smiling Cliff lagged behind, paint covering his hands, his body sporting several smeared spots of color.
The painted beauty smiled at the open-mouthed newcomers before focusing on one of them. “Jay!”
She almost leapt toward him, arms wide, before skidding to a stop inches from him, backing up a step. “Oops, forgot. Wet paint.”
“Raven? Oh my god. Raven! Didn’t you move to California?”
He turned to Robin. “Robin, this is Raven Fogle. She used to live across the street. We were best friends until fifth grade, when her family moved.”
Robin couldn’t keep a straight face, the rush of jealousy changing to amusement. “You’re lucky she has a bird name, mister, or I might not be so accepting of that paint on you.”
Jay followed her eyes. Raven’s skidding stop had not been quite in time. One swirled yellow breast, smaller than Robin’s but not by much, looked smeared, and a roundish patch of yellow paint was centered on his sternum.
“Bird name?” Raven was looking from Jay to Robin in confusion.
He explained, at least the basics. “I’m Jay, she’s Robin. The answer to the riddle was a bird. We’ve been joking about birds all day. We dubbed Tom Merlin, it’s a lot like a peregrine falcon, before he introduced himself. You’re Raven, so you’re in the club.”
“Riddle?” Raven gave Robin an appraising look. “You are the red riddler, aren’t you? Didn’t recognize you without the name tags. Good job, Jay. Looks like all your book reading paid off. If it’s okay, I’ll catch up with you both later, I gotta watch the colored folks. Multi-colored that is. You give these supposed adults finger paint and the right canvas, anything can happen.”
She headed back the way she had come, but not before giving Ruby an exaggerated wink. The tall dark-skinned woman pretended to take a swat at Raven’s painted posterior. “Colored folk, my ass. Your backside is going to be a deeper black and blue if you don’t watch it.”
A smiling Ruby tugged on her husband’s long beard. “Merlin, huh? You must have cast a powerful spell, to land a keeper like me.”
“I deny nothing,” he quipped back at her. “Though that perpetual beauty charm I conjured up on our house seems to have worked better on one us.”
“That’s a good little wizard.” She patted his wrinkled cheek before turning to the new arrivals. “Unless you want to paint each other, it might be good to wash that off before it dries. Either way, I’ll show you where your room is. It has a shower in the bath. Get messy, get dirty, get clean: no pressure, it’s your choice.”
She strode off toward the house, Jay and Robin following. “Our room?” Robin mouthed silently to him.
“Get dirty.” He replied the same way with another wiggle of his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes while he tried to not be too obvious with his as he watched their striking guide’s firm round bottom sway with each long stride.
“Here you are.” Ruby held the door open for them. The room was small but neatly painted a bright turquoise. It held a small four poster bed and a nightstand. One wall was dominated by a psychedelic painting of what might have been the Madonna and Child. A rounded clay sculpture, a headless figure reminiscent of prehistoric figurines, rested on the white window sill beside a spiky aloe plant in a hand-thrown pot. A second door was closed.
“The bathroom is through there and the towels are clean. Take your time, love birds. There’ll be plenty of supper whenever you feel like it.”
Robin pulled him inside and closed the door. She pushed him back when he tried to wrap her up in his arms. “Keep that paint off me, yellow belly.”
“Yellow belly? Are you calling me Chicken?”
“Nice one.” Robin leaned against the bathroom door, biting her lower lip as she drew a hand up between her parted legs. “I was thinking you might be willing to suck some of my sap.”
“Dang, girl, you are good! Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker has to be one of the all time great bird names.” Jay licked his lips. “You want it now, or after the shower? Or both?”
She pouted at him. “I want it now. I’ve never wanted it like I want it, Jay. But I really do want to clean up first, okay?”
He dropped to one knee and grabbed her hand, kissed the back of it. “Sweet lady, your wish is my command. Might I scrub your back?”
She smiled down at him. He didn’t think he’d ever grow immune to the effect it had. “I hoped you’d ask. Rise, sir Knight.”
Instead, jay lowered his head and took her fingers into his mouth. The fingers that had just slipped between her legs. Robin’s body shuddered as she leaned against the door. He stood, close to her, and whispered. “Just a little taste, for now.”
She moved away from the door to open it, felt something stiff bump her middle. “Why, sir Knight, when I told you to rise, you really rose.”
Once the water was running, while waiting for it to warm, Robin wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Not hard, not hurried, but slow and deep. His arms pulled her fully against him, neither worried about paint at all.
The shower head was the wide kind that rained the water gently over them. Neither could have said how long they stayed under it. No words were spoken. There were murmurs, a sort of cooing, and more than a few joyful shared giggles.
After they both rinsed off, Robin washed her own long hair. Jay washed her body. He was very thorough, almost leisurely slow, giving extra care to the boobies responsible for bringing them together.
Her fingers twisted through his hair as he checked the quality of his work rinsing the soap off of them, using his lips and tongue to make sure he had removed any traces of sudsy residue. He felt his hair tugged to the roots as her nipples hardened between his lips and her back arched into his attentions.
He sudsed and rinses lower, encouraging her to turn and lean against a tiled wall as the water coursed down her back. His hands guided first the soap and then the water over her and between her creamy, flawless cheeks.
Under gentle pressure from his hands, she moved her stance wide, surprising herself with how relaxed, how comfortable she was with his intimate touch. She didn’t tense until his hand slid under her, between her thighs, and even that was a pleasant unresisting tension.
She moaned, barely heard, leaning the side of her face against the cool, soothing tile. He did not use his mouth there, not yet, but was still as thorough and unhurried as he’d been above. Her legs were shaking, when she felt him again apply soap, working down each one to her ankles and feet.
Before he stood, he placed a soft kiss on each round cheek, then trailed more kisses up her spine. Her moan grew louder as the kisses rose, her back arching until, as his lips reached her neck, her cheeks caught him, rigid and slippery, between them. His hips pushed into their captors’ grasp. His weight pushed her front against the tile, holding her pinned there, his breath close and warm to her ear.
Hands on hips, he turned her again, and they kissed as the water rained over them.
Robin reached for the soap and her turn began. She reveled in the luxury of exploring a man’s body like this. She felt safe, intimate, and appreciated, not nervous or worried at all.
She lingered on his arms and under them, feeling the smooth muscles, observing how the sparse hairs on his strong lean swimmer’s chest moved under her soapy fingers. The yellow paint melted away easily. Still lathering him, her touch urged him to turn. He held his hands overhead, against the wall as she washed his back.
Her hands gripped the strong wings of muscle his up-stretched arms displayed, massaging, before they slid lower. Jay had his own round cheeks to savor, firmer and smaller than hers. They clenched briefly as she slipped soapy hands between them and he raised up on his toes as she continued lower, between his legs.
She rinsed her work so far, guiding the gentle spray and encouraging the suds lower. She reached around, her breasts pushing into his back, to work the soap down off his chest and stomach. Kneeling close behind him, she scrubbed with her fingers, massaging his thighs, reaching around each strong leg to clean the front as well as the back.
After she had reached his feet and rinsed his legs, her hands guided his turn to again face her. She remained on her knees, began to soap the one area she has skipped but not forgotten. Even though she had felt him hard against her back, wrapped her hand around him, and watched his cloudy seed leak out and over her fingers, even though she had brought it to her lips, tasting him as he watched, this was the closest she had ever been to a man’s most intimate parts.
Robin was fascinated. He was so soft and smooth, while still standing out rigid and hard. She could feel his tension as her soapy hand wrapped around the shaft, pumping along it. He was silent until her thumb traced around the raised ridge that encircled the base of his darker head. Then he moaned, his head and shoulders leaning harder into the tile wall as his hips came toward her.
She lifted him high against his belly and held him there with one hand while the other soaped under. She had never felt anything like his balls, had always had difficulty imagining how they would feel. Knowing how boys reacted to being hit there, she was gentle, lifting the oddly heavy sack with her palm as the rinsing water flowed down over it from his upper body.
After she made sure to rinse his shaft, and that no suds could be seen on legs or feet, she followed Jay’s earlier lead. Resting hands near the top of his strong thighs, Robin leaned close, opening her mouth. She allowed her tongue to slide out, then up along the underside of his swollen head.
At his sharp, almost pained exhale, she looked up to see his wide-eyed stare. He hadn’t expected that. She saw a thick drop form at the very top, clearer than her earlier taste. It magnified the sight of his small slit, forced open by the leaking fluid. She wrapped her lips delicately around the spot and sucked.
Jay rewarded her with a groan. She opened her mouth wider, allowed the head to slip past her lips. It seemed to fill her mouth. Did girls really get the whole thing in?
With one hand she held it again close to his belly, dragging her tongue up along the whole underside. His breaths were quickening and his palms were now pressed flat against the tile to either side of his legs. She released her hand, catching the head with her lips as it dropped away from him.
Her head pushed her mouth down on him, taking more in, forcing her to breath through her nose. She saw his flattened hands tense, almost shaking. She repeated the process. Hold it high. Long slow lick. Catch with the lips and try to take a little more in each time. Suck lightly at the slit for another small taste.
When her jaw began to tire, not used to being held open so wide, she wrapped a hand back around him. It felt slick with her own saliva. She pumped, gripping tighter with her thumb and forefinger, and was rewarded with a larger, cloudier drop.
She caught it with the tip of her tongue, looking up as Jay watched her curl his seed back into her mouth and swallow. She licked her lips, their eyes locked. When her pumping fingers produced more, she pressed her lips around the spot, kept them on him as her hand maintained its rhythm.
She felt him tense, saw his lean stomach muscles bunch as his breath was forced loudly through his nose, jaw clenched. When his shaft seemed to tighten, swell in her hand she allowed the head to slip again past her lips, her tongue cradling the underside.
“Mmmm.” As best she could, Robin tried to match the deep vibration Jay had ascribed to Phoebe, Ruby, the Hummingbird. A tortured groan escaped him and his body pumped, hard, through her stroking fingers and into her mouth.
It was nothing like the gentle leaking onto her hand had been. It was as if his entire body released all its concentrated energy toward forcing its seed into her. Pump follows pump as the head seemed to swell further in her mouth forcing her tongue down and jaws apart.
Like the girl in the barn, she tried to swallow, to keep all of his seed in. She failed. She choked, coughing on the second pump. Though she managed to keep her lips around him, she felt a warm slow flow down her chin. She choked again, her head pulling back against her will, gasping. She watched a final spasm send thick opalescence out to run down the underside of his head and over her hand.
He was gasping, his chest heaving. His legs shook violently though she had no idea how long that had gone on. Sliding her hand over the head and off of him, he gave a briefer higher moan, almost of pain, before she sucked the remaining viscous seed from her thumb and fingers. It tasted somehow more fetid, more alive, than the first sample she had teased out, sitting on the hay bale.
She stood, dragging her body along his, feeling his heart pound and his chest still labor. She tucked her face under his jaw, nuzzling into him. One arm wrapped low around her waist, pulling their groins close. The other hand slid up, grasping the back of her neck, holding her close.
They dried each other with the thick white cotton towels they found hanging on hooks. Neither spoke until he guided her, hand in hand, back to the bedroom, easing her back onto the bed. He lowered his weight onto her, Robin’s legs opening to allow his between them.
He held his upper body propped up on his elbows, his eyes glowing. “Thank you. That was incredible.”
“I’ve never…no one has ever…that was my first…”
“Mine too.” She smiled up at him. “You know, I’m glad I didn’t, but when I first kissed the tip of your…head, where the drop was, I almost laughed.”
He looked almost hurt. “Why would you laugh?”
“A thought came to me and I almost blurted out, ‘I’m a Red-headed Woodpecker.'”
The seriousness, the lingering uncomfortable tension that neither were entirely prepared for so early in their lives or relationship, broke. Their laughter lightened the mood and the room.
Leaning over her, Robin saw his smile vanish, his face turn serious.
“What is it?”
“You’re sunburnt.” He reached out and lightly pressed a single finger pad to her chest, near the top of the collection of freckles. The red skin was white for a second after his hand pulled back, then red again.
She nodded, her lips pressed together. “It’s tender. I didn’t notice earlier.”
“A long hot shower probably didn’t help.”
“Felt good at the time.”
“That it did.” Jay looked over at the window sill. He rolled to the edge of the bed. Reaching out he grabbed a fleshy branch of the potted aloe and broke it off. The spikes down each side looked more menacing than they were.
Robin looked at him, surprised and puzzled. “That’s not yours! Why did you break their cactus?”
“It’s aloe. Nature’s soothing balm. I’ll confess to Tom and Ruby if you want, but I bet that’s why it’s here.”
She watched him peel back one side of the outer skin with his thumb nail.
“You’re not going to jab me with those spines!”
“Oh, come on, you’ll just feel a little prick.”
“I think I’d like to feel a certain prick again, but it sure didn’t feel little in the shower.”
Robin felt her heart give an extra, syncopated beat and an odd, almost queasy sensation in her belly when Jay blushed, his face showing a delightfully sweet combination of shyness and pride. She had put a ridiculous faith in her riddle’s ability to locate her own special brave, bright knight, and Jay T. Markham had charmed her ever since.
“Hmm. I might be able to arrange that, lovely lady, but first things first.” He kneeled above her on the bed, one knee pressing into the mattress beside her hip, the other sliding between her still-open thighs. He held up the peeled aloe.
“First I must succor the sadly afflicted Robin Red-breast. And then I must fulfill my duty as a Sap-sucker, even if I am no longer yellow-bellied.”
Robin moaned at that, her hips lifting off the bed. When they did, it dragged her tenderest flesh along his thigh. They both felt the slickness of the contact. Looking down as her hips lowered again to the bed, Jay saw a shining trail of her moisture ending at a small orange-red patch of curly hairs.
“Fuck.” It was a whisper full of awe.
Her answering whisper sent a charge of electricity through him. “I’m tempted to let you do just that, Mr. Markham.”
She watched him blush deeper, flushing red down over his chest. He swallowed, then grinned. “Looks like I’m not the only one who can mark ’em, Miss…”
Jay stopped. “I don’t know your last name.”
It was her turn to look embarrassed. Very.
“What’s wrong?” His instant concern warmed her. He was so sweet.
“Bird names aren’t the only jokes around here.” Her tight lips clearly showed a long-held frustration. “Parents should not give their children joke names.”
“How bad could it be? I had a class with Perry Winkle last semester.” She almost smiled, but Jay could see pain in her eyes. “Let’s see. Robin…Banks? D. Rich?”
The pained look dimmed as her smile brightened. “You really are a succor, aren’t you? Or is it succorer?”
“I’m not the only one, however you say it. Now come on, tell me. It can’t be that bad.”
She let out a long sigh. “My father’s name is Theodore Hood.”
“Robin Hood? Really?” It took effort, but Jay held back his laughter.
“So I was close with Robin D. Rich.”
“I know! You’re good.”
“So they tell me.”
“So they? Who tells you that?”
“Well, you did earlier. And there was that one old lady I helped across the street to get a merit badge. Robin Hood. You’re right, parents should not do that. At least it fits. When I saw you earlier you seemed to be surrounded by a band of hairy men.”
She finally laughed. “Merry, dang it. They’re supposed to be merry, not hairy. I saw men hairy in places I hope to never again see.”
They shared a shudder of somewhat-mock revulsion at the thought. “Me too, but they weren’t lining up to stare at my chest. Changing the subject, I have someone you should meet.”
He reached down with the hand not holding the aloe and grasped his limp shaft between thumb and finger, wiggling it at her. “Robin Hood, meet Little John.”
Robin noticed, even limp, that he was still thicker and longer than he’d been earlier, walking around. “Not so little John, you mean.”
He gave an exaggerated sign of relief. “Thanks. I was fishing for that one.”
She eyed ‘John’ again. “Use a big bait, catch a big fish.”
He was beginning to swell. She looked up to Jay’s face. “Hey, weren’t you going to sooth my inflamed bosom?”
“I was indeed.” Leaning forward, he gently pressed the exposed inner flesh of the aloe against her skin, centered above her beautiful bare breasts, on the freckles of his dreams.
“Ooh. It feels so cool.” With Jay’s eyes focusing on his work, and caring for her reddened, freckled skin, Robin relaxed, allowing her lids to close. “This is nice.”
He slid the natural balm in larger circles, coating the area above her breasts before he slid the aloe slowly down between them.
“Mmmm.” The contentment on Robin’s face and in her soft sounds was a joy to Jay. He bent the stalk and peeled off more of the skin, exposing fresh slippery flesh. He began to circle one breast, each loop smaller than the one before until the clear gel was gliding over the outer, pinker skin of her nipple.
He watched as the skin crinkled, pulling the sensitive darker flesh inward as the center point grew hard, out and up toward him. When his fingers steered the aloe directly over the hardened nub, her lips parted without a sound, and her hips again dragged even more sensitive flesh along his thigh.
Dragging his eyes from the wet, shining point, Jay repeated his path on her other breast. Robin’s hips were now moving in a constant slow, languid slide up and down the hard muscle above his knee.
He noticed the second nipple shone with a golden light, as the day’s light through the single window took on that magical quality before the true sunset. He set the aloe aside and leaned close to the angel beneath him. The action pressed his leg more firmly against her undulating hips.
Lowering his weight with a hand to either side of her, his lips closed on the shimmering nipple.
“Yessss.” It was half word, half prolonged escaping breath. Her eyes stayed closed, but her hands came up to twine through his still-damp hair. He followed the lead of her hips, using slow lips and a soft tongue, savoring both hard nubbins. The aloe added an earthy, green flavor.
Leaning down a little more, Jay planted a soft kiss over the freckles that had haunted him for the past year. The next kiss was lower. The third, directly between her breasts, turning enough to feel soft smooth rounded skin skim his cheek.
He eased himself lower, drawing a murmur of complaint as his thigh left its moist warm contact between hers. His other knee joined the first between her legs, nudging hers wider as kisses continued down her belly. He lingered at her navel, noticing for the first time minuscule fine hairs, golden in the light, just below. They seemed to mark a subtle trail, like breadcrumbs in a fairy tale, leading him further down.
Robin didn’t make another sound until he tasted her sacred sap on his lightly kissing lips.
“Oh, Jay.” It was a breathy, wonder-filled whisper.
He dropped onto his belly, sliding his hands under her legs, lifting them gently apart until his fingers could caress the soft skin of her belly. Looking up toward her face past his hands, he could see her breasts, still glistening with the aloe, rising and falling.
Her hips had stilled when they felt his thigh pull away. Now they pushed up again, as his tongue slipped between his lips to find her lower ones open and ready.
He tasted more deeply, lapping with the thick center of his tongue from deep between her legs up to where it felt her thin twin lines of reddish hair join together in a soft tangle. Her hips pressed up against him there, knowing what they needed.
He trusted her motions, continuing to lick, and lap, and kiss, and allowing her body to position the parts most needing attention to where his mouth moved against her, teaching them both what she craved. When her hips lifted, he allowed his tongue to slip inside her, gathering more of the growing liquid. He pulled it back, barely extended beyond his lips, when her hips came down, guiding his attention to the slick, increasingly swollen folds above the opening.
His hands felt the tension in her belly increasing as the movement of her hips intensified. They pressed down more now, keeping him almost exclusively amidst those soft folds and the small swelling at their center. Her belly tightened, the muscles suddenly straining under his hands as her fingers again wound through his hair.
She pulled him hard against her as a cry escaped her lips. He looked up to see her eyes wide, mouth open, her head raised off the bed.
“Oh my…Jay!” Her fingers pulled his hair almost painfully as her head rose further, her back rising from the bed. “Ahhhh!”
Her cry continued, muffled by her thighs squeezing in on his ears. Her hips bucked against his mouth as his kisses became a pucker, his tongue massaging her between them. Again following her body’s lead, he eased his ministrations as her hips slowed and her wail trailed off.
He slipped his arms out from under her legs after his hands felt the powerful contractions in her belly ease. He inched his way back up her body as her hands on his head eased him away from her center, pulling his face up toward hers. He managed to flick his tongue over one nipple before she pulled his mouth to hers. Her lips were frantic on his, tasting herself on his tongue and around his mouth, before she pulled his face down tight beside hers.
He continued his own lighter kisses along her neck and jaw. When he finally pushed himself up to look at her, the light in the room was considerably dimmer, the golden light replaced now by a deep, fading red.
His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly.
Robin raised her face enough to plant a peck on his lips. “I know, me too. When’s the last time you ate?”
“Food.” She added when she saw the look on his face.
“Ruby said food would be ready when we were. Shall we?”
“We shall.” Robin took his offered hand to help her up off the bed, squeezed him tight in a hug as soon as they were standing. “Thank you.”
The tall woman must have heard the old hinges creak as they left the room, her head appearing around a corner. “Hi, kids. Have a nice nap?”
“Uh, very nice. Thank you.” They both wondered if any of their ‘nap’ had been overheard as they followed her into the large, open kitchen. Tom was leaning back in a shaker chair at the round pedestal table, his eyes twinkling. A large ceiling fan stirred the warm air.
He looked closely at Robin. “You look a little flushed, young lady. Too much sun?”
Jay butted in. “Yeah. I used some of the aloe on the burn. I hope that’s okay.”
Tom looked impressed as Ruby crossed her arms, staring daggers at her husband. He struggled to hold back a grin. “That’s fine, Jay. Interesting. I didn’t know you could use aloe for that. Might have to try that one out, Rube.”
“Tom! Quit teasing the girl!”
The old man started to laugh. Robin’s mouth dropped open as her skin further reddened. “You heard?”
Ruby put a long arm around her shoulders. “Sweetie, if anyone was still out by the swimming hole, they woulda heard too.”
Robin buried her face in her hands. Tom gave Jay a big wink. “Ruby, these kids need sustenance. Have a seat, you two. Don’t ever be ashamed of enjoying yourself. Way too many folk seem like to think pleasure is something some creator out there is sorry he or she created. Bullshirt!
“If more found the inclination, inspiration and stimulation to holler their heads off in delight like it’s possible we might have heard a little while ago, I can’t see it making the world a worse place.”
Robin and Jay found themselves both smiling at his rant, any embarrassment gone. Any other day, they’d have been more then uncomfortable sitting sharing another couple’s kitchen table buck naked, let alone being overheard as they’d been.
“I can see why you made such an impression on Dad as a teacher, Tom.”
Ruby shook her head as she set down a large platter with most of a roast chicken, cheese, some dried fruit, and what looked like home-baked bread. “At least Jay D. got to escape, I mean graduate. I had to go and marry the man. Do you drink beer? It’s that or water, unless you want more tea. I don’t like caffeine this late.”
“Make it water, Rube.” Tom said. “It’s been a long hot day and they’re probably dehydrated. We’ve got the best water around coming from our well, might as well share.”
The platter held mainly bones when the two stopped eating. The water was fresher-tasting than the tap water both were used to.
“I assume you both know you’re staying the night at this point. You’ve got your room already, and ours is clear on the other side of the house, so nobody’s likely to hear any snoring or what not.”
The two shared a glance.
“I’ll give you a ride into town in the morning after breakfast. Or Raven can. If it’s all right with the guests, I’m ready to retire myself. This day started early. Make yourselves at home.” After an exchange of thanks and goodnights, Tom shuffled off, not quite as spry as earlier.
Ruby watched Robin’s face at the mention of Raven. She took care of the dishes before heading after Tom. On her way out she gave each a quick hug. She whispered in Robin’s ear. “Check the nightstand drawer, Sweetie. Just in case anything comes up. And don’t worry about Raven. She’s more likely to be interested in you than any guy, even this keeper you found.”
Alone once more, neither of the two were quite prepared for bed. Not for sleep or for what else bed implied. Outside, the gibbous moon provided plenty of light to not trip over anything.
Jay’s hand found Robin’s as they strolled down to the creek. They listened to the burbling of the water over and around the rough dam. An owl screeched in the distance. She moved in front of him, leaning back against his chest. His arms slipped lightly, comfortably around her middle.
Jay almost felt guilty that he didn’t grow hard, with the girl of so many hopeless fantasies naked and near in his arms. The red-haired vision revealed to have a laser wit and marvelous mind. The beautiful girl who had sudsed his body, savoring every inch of him, before taking him in her mouth. The girl who had cried out her pleasure as her hips bucked uncontrolled over his lips and tongue.
The last thought did it. Robin moved back against him, almost a slow dance, when he began to swell. Her hand stroked over his forearm as it crossed her belly, fingers lightly massaging the muscles they found.
Soon, Robin’s hands urged his arms apart, she turned toward him and whispered, “I have to pee.”
She kissed his moonlit smile. Without words, they agreed to separate as both wandered nearer the creek. Jay could see her squatting near-silhouette, hear her sudden spray on the bare ground. He was not so hard that he couldn’t aim his own more discreet stream, ingrained propriety causing him to turn his back as his bladder began to empty.
They found a wooden chaise lounge, with soft, comfortable cushions covered in a muted batik, the colors difficult to discern in the moon’s blue-white light. Other than crickets singing their love song, they were no insects in the air. No mosquitos buzzed their ears. Perhaps Merlin’s home really did hold some magic.
Jay reclined on the lounge and Robin leaned against him, much like they had on the bale earlier. One arm draped over her shoulder now, cupping one heavy, full breast. One of the Boobies, no longer blue-footed, that had brought them together.
When his thumb began to stroke first around, then over a crinkling nipple, she turned half toward him, her knees drawn up between his wide-spread ones. With one hand on his firmer chest, she stretched up to kiss him. Soft lips, softer tongue.
The kiss deepened when her thumb followed his lead, felt his smaller nipple harden. Lower, he twitched against her thigh. His lips and breath communicated his groan to hers through subsonic vibration, bypassing sound.
They lingered here, touching and tasting. Robin shuddered when his thumb was joined by a finger, rolling her awakened nubbin between them. His hand lifted her breast as his lips left hers and his face lowered. She understood.
He brought his legs together when she shifted onto her knees, one to each side of his thighs, resting her hands on the reclined wooden back support. Jay leaned forward to offer feather-light kisses on her over-sunned freckles. Pulling his head back, his hand guided her nipple to his lips.
It was Robin’s turn to lean in toward him, her answering moan not entirely silent. Each of his hands cradled their own breast as his kisses and, soon, flicks of the tongue, attended to two contracted, tender tips.
Her hips began to move. Both drew in startled breath when she met his upright excitement near his belly. She pressed forward, increasing the contact. He pushed up to meet her, his sensitive tip finding slickness, unsure from which one of them it originated.
The slickness increased as her hips’ rhythm did. It spread down him, past the ridge and along the underside, now pushed up and against her, moving to her body’s music. He leaned back, unable to give her nipples the full attention they deserved. Her face above his was pale under the moon. Eyes closed, her parted lips spoke of pleasure and rising tension.
“Robin.” The word was breathy, reverent, worshipful.
Her eyes fluttered open, her face tilted down. Her still parted lips curled upward at their outermost edges. “My knight.”
She slipped an arm between them. He felt fingers touch him, guiding. He felt her explore herself with him, sliding him against her. Her hips continued their dance as the rhythm turned less languid, more urgent. He was certain now that, regardless of his own contribution, the slick wetness coating them both was the same sweet nectar he had tasted on the bed.
“Yes, my lady.”
“I want you.”
“You have me.” Only as he said it did Jay realize both what she meant, and how true his words were.
Fingers guided him to where her hips had halted. He felt warm wetness wrapping around him. Like her lips in the shower, but a somehow more primal melding of their flesh. Her slick tightness squeezed more of him as she lowered herself down.
Jay felt her start as a flicker of concern crossed her face. She pulled up until he was barely held inside her, sank down again, blowing steady, concentrating breaths through tight lips, her eyes closed.
His eyes stayed on her face above him. He saw the sharp pain tighten her moonlit features when she finally sank fully down on him, breaking thought the barrier that had marked the limits of her earlier descents. She looked down at him, offering a tense grin.
His hands stoked over her smooth back, offering what comfort he could as she drew and released several deep breaths. Her hips began to move once more.
Her next smile came more easily, her eyes bright, the brows above them no longer pulled tight.
His face showed the tension hers had lost.
“Robin. “I’m going to…”
One small hand found the side of his head, stroking cheek and hair. “It’s okay.”
It was more than okay. She held him close, pulling his head against her chest as he pushed up, groaning. Her movements were small, keeping him deep inside her. His arms wrapped tightly around her, holding himself to her with a desperate deep need.
When he was able to tilt his face up, she brought her lips down to his.
“Thank you.” It was not clear who had spoken the words, or even if they were said out loud.
Robin slept with her head on his chest, one arm draped over him, his hand cradling her neck. A light cotton sheet was cover enough from the warm Ohio night.
“Good morning.” Her nose nuzzled under his ear before lips nipped at his lobe. Dimly, kitchen sounds could be heard through the door. The early light through the window reminded Jay of the golden glow on his angel’s face last night.
She cooed against his ear before her lips tickled it. “My knight.”
He drew in a sharp breath when she slipped down toward his waist, pulling the sheet down with her. He grew quickly in her warm mouth, far more sensitive than when he’d already been fully hard before her lips found him. This time, as he stifled a groan with his teeth pressed to his own wrist, Robin did swallow all he offered.
Their shower together was much quicker than their first, and two bundles of clothes were on the bed when they left the bathroom. Neither could keep their eyes or hands off one another as they dressed, helping where none was needed.
“It feels odd.” He said as he pulled her to him for a kiss.
“Kissing with clothes on?”
“No. We’ve been awake for most of an hour, and not a single bird joke.”
She grinned up at him. “Yes there was. You just missed it.”
His face showed his bewilderment.
“Silly boy. As soon as I woke up, I ‘blue’ Jay.”